


When Rivalries Are Forgotten

by LivinOnARarePair



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Goalies being weird, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:09:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1849030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivinOnARarePair/pseuds/LivinOnARarePair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just some bendy tendy love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Rivalries Are Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my homeslice for her birthday. She loves Crow, but we haven't been able to find anyone perfect for him. This was the best I could do. I know it's a major rivalry, so please, no hate. Don't like, don't read. First game stats made up because I couldn't find the actual stats.

They’ve always been a strange couple. For starters, they’re both goalies, so they’re a little weird anyway. But then they’re on rival teams, which is . . . _Strange_.

Corey remembers when it all started . . .

Their first game against each other is tough, as all rivalry games are, and it goes into overtime. Both goalies stand strong, but with forty-three seconds left in OT, Datsyuk nets a goal that no goalie would be able to stop. Corey swings his stick into the goal post, then skates over to the bench, pushing past his teammates and trudging down the tunnel. He gets into the locker room and throws his blocker into his locker before slumping down onto the bench. His teammates mutter indistinct to him as they file past, some of them tapping his pads with their sticks.

He doesn’t listen to Coach’s yelling and takes his time getting changed. He’s the last to slump out of the arena, toque pulled low. He doesn’t expect anyone to be hanging around, and he figures he’ll be able to make it to his truck without interruption.

But then a hand lands on his arm.

“Hey, Crawford.”

Corey turns, raising his hand to hit whoever has latched onto him, but the man standing there releases him, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Okay?” Jimmy asks softly with a small smile.

Corey shrugs. “Chicago,” he says by means of explanation.

“I understand,” Jimmy nods. “Detroit.”

Corey can’t help a tiny smile. He hides it by ducking his head.

“Would you . . . ,” Jimmy starts, looking uncertain. “Would you maybe wanna go out for a drink?”

“Ah . . . ,” Corey’s caught off guard, and it takes him a moment to recover. He doesn’t expect the answer that falls out of his mouth. “Sure.”

“Great,” Jimmy grins.

And Corey should say no, should send Jimmy away, but . . . He just can’t. In fact, he can’t even not return the smile. He leads the way to his truck, and they both toss their bags in the bed. Then they climb in, and Corey starts it up. He shivers and cranks the heat.

“Manual?” Jimmy asks, gesturing to the gearshifter.

“Yeah,” Corey nods.

“Impressive,” Jimmy smiles.

His smile is so _infectious_. “Thanks,” Corey says quietly.

The truck finally warms up some, and Corey drives them to a bar near his apartment. They go in and take a small table in the back. When their first round of beer comes, Jimmy tips his bottle towards Corey.

“To you,” he says, barely loud enough for Corey to hear. “Believe it or not, you played really well tonight.”

Corey feels himself blush and hopes it isn’t noticeable under the crappy lighting of the bar. He hides it by taking a drink of his beer. “Thanks,” he says quietly when he lowers his bottle again. “You did, too.”

After a few rounds, Corey starts to loosen up and gives in to the feeling of just wanting to talk companionably with Jimmy. As it turns out, Jimmy grins even more as they drink, and that leads to Corey smiling more and laughing easily. The game is completely forgotten.

A couple hours later, they get up to leave. After much insisting, Jimmy pays, and then they stumble outside together, leaning on each other maybe more than either of them actually needs, ending up with Jimmy’s arm around Corey’s shoulders.

“Listen, uh . . . ,” Corey hesitates. He shouldn’t do this. He really shouldn’t . . . But . . . “Would you like to maybe come back to my place?”

Jimmy turns his head to grin at Corey, tilting his face up a little to accommodate the slight height difference. “Sure.”

Corey grins back. “Great.”

Then before he can react, Jimmy leans forward and briefly kisses the corner of Corey’s mouth. And then he’s laughing again, and Corey feels warm all over, despite the chill of the evening. They start down the sidewalk because it’s really not that far. Jimmy releases him as they walk, and Corey’s left cold, but then Jimmy nudges Corey’s shoulder with his own, grinning. Corey grins and nudges back. And they make their way down the sidewalk, pushing companionably back and forth.

It doesn’t take long to get back to Corey’s building. The lobby is warm, the lights comfortably bright after the darkened night outside. They make their way to the elevator, heads lowered, trying to be inconspicuous, hoping no one recognizes them. Corey especially hopes he doesn’t run into any of his teammates that live in the building.

The elevator is empty when they step in. Corey pushes the button for his floor, then leans back against the wall beside Jimmy. The doors slide closed, and the elevator begins to move. There is a few seconds of elevator music, and then Jimmy makes his move. In another second, Corey finds himself pinned against the wall, Jimmy in his space.

“Can I kiss you?” Jimmy murmurs, eyes locked on Corey’s mouth. “’cause I really wanna kiss you.”

“Yeah,” Corey nods, already a little breathless.

Jimmy nods minutely, eyes flickering up to Corey’s before he leans in and seals his mouth over Corey’s. Corey looses a choked off moan, opening his mouth to Jimmy at the first touch of Jimmy’s tongue to his bottom lip. Jimmy’s tongue dips teasingly into his mouth, and Corey feels his knees going weak. Jimmy holds him up, strong hands on his hips, as he kisses him. Corey’s brain goes a little foggy because _damn_ , Jimmy can kiss.

Too soon, the doors open, and Jimmy pulls away. Corey makes a desperate little noise, reaching out to pull Jimmy back in. Jimmy smiles and catches Corey’s hand.

“C’mon,” he says quietly, pulling Corey out of the small space. Corey stumbles, and Jimmy catches him against his chest. “Okay?”

Corey nods and starts down the hall, tugging Jimmy along by the hand. When they get to Corey’s door, Jimmy plasters himself against Corey’s back, and Corey fumbles with his key, not getting the door unlocked until his third try. They stumble inside, Jimmy turning Corey around to kiss him fully and feverishly. Jimmy kicks the door closed behind them, and a few steps later, Corey’s knees hit something solid, and he falls back against his couch. Jimmy follows a second later, slithering atop Corey and slotting their bodies together, claiming Corey’s mouth again.

And this is so _wrong_. They’re _rivals_. But . . . Corey just can’t make himself think otherwise. . . . Especially when Jimmy pushes his dick against Corey’s, and _fuck_.

“Should we, uh . . . ,” Jimmy pulls back to tug Corey’s bottom lip between his teeth. “Should we take this to the bedroom?”

“Uh-huh,” Corey nods, breathless, and leans up to kiss Jimmy again.

Jimmy laughs against his mouth, kissing him until Corey goes pliant beneath him. Then he pulls back and bodily drags Corey to his feet. Corey whines and pushes against Jimmy. Jimmy’s fingers circle Corey’s wrists, holding him back just out of reach.

“C’mon, Crawford,” Jimmy murmurs with a smile, eyes half-lidded. “Bedroom.”

Corey groans and turns to lead the way to his bedroom, dragging Jimmy along by the hand. Jimmy laughs and follows. Once they’re in the bedroom, Corey turns to kiss Jimmy, but the other tender bends down to get his hands on Corey’s thighs, lifting him until Corey’s feet leave the floor. Corey makes an indignant sound that makes Jimmy grin as he carries Corey over to the bed. He drops Corey on his back, which causes Corey to make the same sound, but then Jimmy is toppling down on top of him, kissing Corey silent.

Corey groans, and his hands make their way down to tug Jimmy’s shirt from where it’s tucked into his dress pants so he can shove his hands underneath and get at the warm skin there. Jimmy gasps into the kiss and arches into Corey’s hands. His own come up to the buttons of Corey’s dress shirt and make quick work of them. He pushes the shirt off Corey’s shoulders, and Corey leans up to let Jimmy push it down his arms and off. Then he unbuttons the top few buttons of Jimmy’s shirt and reaches up to tug it over the other tender’s head.

Jimmy hovers above him, eyes and hands roaming Corey’s exposed skin, and Corey lets him look his fill, pushing into the touch, his own hands secured on Jimmy’s hips. Finally, Jimmy’s eyes snap back up to meet Corey’s.

“What do you want?” His voice sounds harsh in the quiet room.

“Fuck me.” The words surprise even Corey. He hadn’t known that’s what he wanted until the words were out of his mouth.

Jimmy just smiles and leans down to kiss him. “Okay. Do you have, uh . . . ?”

“Top drawer,” Corey breathes, gesturing towards the nightstand.

Jimmy kisses him again before moving up to fumble in the drawer. Corey turns over to watch him. A moment later, Jimmy returns with the lube, a condom, and a smile. He straddles Corey’s waist, urging him up the bed a little. Corey starts to lean up, but Jimmy pushes him down gently with a hand in the center of Corey’s chest, and Corey goes easily beneath him, and Jimmy leans down to get his mouth on Corey’s neck.

“You good, man?” he murmurs against the soft skin there.

Corey moans in response, and he feels Jimmy laugh gently against his skin. Then Jimmy’s hands are skimming down Corey’s chest, down his belly, and to his pants. He cups Corey with one hand while the other works at the fastenings. His skillful fingers make quick work of the button and zipper, and then his hand dips in. He continues to tease, rubbing Corey above his boxers, his mouth hot over Corey’s pulse point. Corey gasps and rocks up against Jimmy’s hand, but the pressure isn’t enough to get him anywhere. Jimmy rubs his palm over the head of Corey’s cock, and Corey whines and shivers beneath him.

Jimmy leans up to look at him, teasing grin in place. “Not a hair trigger, are ya?”

Corey frowns which just makes Jimmy laugh.

“Tease,” Corey bites out.

Jimmy leans down to kiss him. “Okay, okay,” he says, pushing Corey’s pants down. Corey works them the rest of the way off his legs, letting them fall to pool at the end of the bed. They’ll probably wrinkle, but he really doesn’t care right now. In this moment, all he cares about is getting Jimmy’s pants down as well. He worms his hands between them and struggles with the button for a moment before getting it undone and then tugging the zipper down. He dips his hand into Jimmy’s pants and beneath his boxers, getting a hand around Jimmy. He starts to stroke teasingly, flicking his thumb over the slit on the upstroke. Jimmy hisses above him.

“That’s dirty, Crawford,” he gets out.

Corey leans up to lay a kiss on Jimmy’s jaw, just beneath his ear. “Call me Crow.”

“Crow,” Jimmy laughs a little, teasing.

Corey shrugs beneath him. “I’ve always been Crow.”

Jimmy leans up with a mischievous little smile. “That’s adorable.”

“Hey, shut -- What are you-- _oh_ ,” Corey rambles as Jimmy begins moving down his body until his face is even with Corey’s cock where it’s tenting his boxers.

“You were saying?” Jimmy asks, hooking his fingers in the band of Corey’s boxers.

“Nothing,” Corey says quickly.

Jimmy smiles and tugs Corey’s boxers down. “Thought so,” he says, breath ghosting over Corey’s cock. Corey groans and rocks his hips up a little.

“Patience is just not your strong point, is it?” Jimmy asks.

“Dammit, Howard. Just _do it_ ,” Corey grits out.

“Pushy, pushy,” Jimmy scolds, but he leans down and takes the head in his mouth.

A sigh of relief hisses through Corey’s teeth as Jimmy leans down to take more of him in. Jimmy sets a steady rhythm, tongue teasing at all the right places to get Corey shaking and gasping beneath him. While Corey is distracted, Jimmy slicks up his fingers and pushes just the tip of one into Corey’s trembling body.

In a second, Corey breaks away from Jimmy and is scrambling up the bed. “Fuck, Howard.”

“I’m sorry,” Jimmy apologizes immediately. “Did I hurt you?”

“You can’t just do that to a goalie,” Corey says.

“Shit, sorry,” Jimmy says, moving up the bed and laying a hand on Corey’s leg. “I didn’t mean to . . . Y’know, offend you or anything.”

“It’s okay,” Corey says, calming down. “Just warn me next time.”

“Of course,” Jimmy says softly, rubbing his thumb over Corey’s skin. “Wanna try again?”

Corey hesitates, then nods. Jimmy smiles softly, leaning in to kiss him slow and sweet. When he leans back, his eyes are shining in the half-light. “Okay?”

Corey nods again. “I’m good.”

Jimmy stays where he is and lowers a hand between them. He nudges his fingers to just behind Corey’s balls, eyes never leaving Corey’s. “Will you let me in?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah, do it,” Corey says, breathless, and bites his lip.

Jimmy puts his fingertip right against Corey’s entrance and waits for Corey’s nod before pushing in, in, in. Corey’s breath leaves him in a long sigh as he relaxes around the intrusion. He rocks down gently, and Jimmy takes the cue to move, working his finger back and forth in Corey, opening him up.

“You’re a good goalie,” Jimmy murmurs against Corey’s jaw. “Never let anything in.”

Corey makes a desperate little noise and rolls his hips in search of friction. Then Jimmy pauses, another fingertip just ghosting the rim of Corey’s hole. “Another?”

“Yeah,” Corey gasps out, hands clutching at Jimmy’s narrow shoulders.

Jimmy eases his second finger in tentatively, so as not to spook the other tender. “You were so good in goal tonight,” he murmurs, nuzzling just beneath Corey’s ear. “That save at the end of the second . . . Shit, I don’t think I could have made that save. So good, Crow.”

Corey moans brokenly and starts to fuck himself in earnest on Jimmy’s fingers, rolling his hips so his cock brushes back and forth on Jimmy’s thigh, leaving little sticky trails of precome on the soft skin there.

“You ever done this, Crow?” Jimmy prompts.

Corey shakes his head where he’s got his face buried in Jimmy’s neck, and Jimmy runs a warm hand down his spine. “You’re good for a rookie, so good, Crow.”

Corey shivers and whimpers a little at the praise, and he’s glad no one can see them here, because he knows he would be mocked to the end of time for that noise. Then Jimmy starts brushing a third finger against his rim, asking for entrance, and Corey goes rigid. Jimmy instantly stills.

“Do you need to stop?” he asks quietly.

“No,” Corey says immediately, shaking his head. “Another. Please.”

Jimmy eases just the tip of his third finger in. “Okay?”

Corey nods and pushes down against him. Jimmy pushes in until he’s got three fingers buried to the last knuckle. Again, he waits for Corey to move first before working his fingers in the other tender, stretching him for what is to come. He crooks his fingers on an upstroke, and Corey looses the filthiest moan Jimmy’s ever heard, arching into him and pushing down on Jimmy’s fingers. Jimmy gets his free hand in Corey’s hair and tugs gently to get Corey to look up. When he does, Jimmy kisses him, slow and soothing. He rubs his fingers over that same spot again, catching Corey’s moan with his own mouth. He continues to push against Corey’s prostate until the rhythm of Corey’s hips starts to stutter. That’s when he pulls his fingers out, making Corey whine in his throat. Jimmy kisses him again.

“Do you still want to do this?” he whispers, intense gaze holding Corey still.

“ _Yes_.”

Jimmy smiles. “Okay.”

He leans back to grab the condom that had been forgotten further down the bed. He rips the foil wrapper with his teeth and balances the rubber on the head of his own cock, sliding it down in one smooth motion. Then he takes up the bottle of lube again, but Corey’s hands on his stop him. He looks up at the other tender, question in his eyes.

Corey feels himself blush. “Can I . . . do this part?”

Jimmy smiles, letting his hands fall away. “Go right ahead.”

Corey slicks his hand up and gets it around Jimmy, stroking thoroughly. He twists his wrist to push his thumb against that place under the head that makes Jimmy gasp and shudder. He strokes Jimmy to full hardness, getting him good and lubed up before letting his hands fall away without warning. He looks up at Jimmy who has his eyes closed and mouth open, his hips still working against nothing.

“So dirty, Crow,” he says, blinking his eyes open again. When they settle on Corey, he smiles, almost like he’s proud. “So dirty. C’mere.”

Corey scrambles up on his knees so he can kiss Jimmy, the other tender’s hands catching his hips when Corey loses his balance in his over eagerness. “Easy,” Jimmy smiles. Corey blushes and leans forward to kiss him. They make out for a bit, but finally Jimmy pulls back, holding Corey back with a hand in his hair when he tries to follow.

“How do you want to do this?” Jimmy asks, voice soft.

Corey blushes, and starts to move them around, too shy to voice what he’s thinking. Jimmy lets him, fitting himself between Corey’s thighs when Corey pulls his legs to his chest, then lets them fall to the sides, laying flat on the mattress.

“Flexible,” Jimmy remarks with another smile as he settles in.

“Goalie,” Corey returns.

“A very good point,” Jimmy says, leaning down to kiss Corey. He runs his hands up and down Corey’s thighs and kisses him until Corey is pliant and languid beneath him. Only then does he start to move into position. He settles the head against Corey’s entrance and looks back up at the other boy.

“Crow,” he says softly. “Will you let me in?”

Corey wants to tell him that it’s not really necessary for him to ask, but for Corey, it kind of is. As a goalie, he is in a constant mindset of _let nothing in, ever_. So this is foreign to him, letting someone in, and it being okay. He needs a second to process it, to tell himself, _it’s okay_. The fact that it’s the enemy goalie doesn’t even cross his mind for a second, because a goalie is a goalie, and the bond between all goalies is a strong one that can transcend rivalries when it’s appropriate.

He swallows and, eyes never leaving Jimmy’s, says, “Yes.”

Jimmy smiles and ducks his head to kiss Corey softly. “Thank you,” he murmurs against Corey’s mouth.

And then he’s pushing in, as gently as he can. The head slips in, making Corey gasp and grasp at Jimmy’s arms where they’re holding him up on either side of Corey. Jimmy kisses his again. “Okay?”

Instead of answering, Corey pushes down on Jimmy, causing Jimmy to slide in a little further. Jimmy kisses his again and starts to push in, in, in, a slow drag that is making Corey writhe on the sheets. When Jimmy’s buried to the hilt, Corey groans, low and broken, and Jimmy leans down to kiss away the sound.

“So good, Corey,” Jimmy murmurs when he pulls back, hand stroking Corey’s thigh again. He waits for Corey to adjust, hand never stilling on Corey’s leg until Corey pushes down on him. Then he drops his hand back to the mattress for leverage and slides out until only the head is still in. Corey moans when he starts to push back in, legs skittering out wider, shameless with arousal.

Jimmy’s murmuring above him, and Corey latches onto his words. “Such a good tender, Crow. I saw your shutout last week. Fucking beauty.”

It shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but for Corey, this is the best dirty talk he’s ever heard. He decides to chalk it up to being a goalie, and therefore, weird.

Jimmy builds a rhythm that Corey matches, rolling his hips up to meet every thrust, and it’s perfect. It’s as easy as the rhythm of hockey.

“And that shootout against Columbus,” Jimmy’s saying. “God, Crow, you made saves no goalie should be able to.”

Even as Corey feels the blush spreading down his chest, he knows he’s practically glowing from the praise spilling from Jimmy’s lips. And then Jimmy hits a spot inside him that has Corey arching off the bed with a loud moan. When his eyes blink open and focus back on Jimmy, the other goalie is smiling. “Like that?”

Corey nods, unable to formulate words anymore. It takes a second to get their rhythm back in sync, Jimmy moving just a little bit faster, thrusting just a little bit harder, trying to replicate that same angle. It takes a few tries, but then he’s hammering against Corey’s prostate with every stroke, sending Corey hurtling to the edge. He teeters there a moment, Jimmy driving into him.

“Such a good goalie, Crow.”

And that’s it. Corey’s coming hard between them. Jimmy gets a hand on him, stroking roughly to draw it out. For a fleeting moment, Corey feels like he’s laying on the sun, every part of him on fire in the best possible way. And then he’s floating back down through space, drifting lazily through the atmosphere. And then he’s just falling back to earth, landing back on his bed with a soft thump.

Jimmy’s still driving into him, and Corey’s so oversensitive that he feels everything so acutely, feels every inch of Jimmy as he continues to slide in and out of him, feels the sweat slicked between them at every point they’re touching, feels the protest in his muscles where his legs have splayed out too far without his permission. He clenches down around Jimmy, and just like that the other tender is coming, and Corey feels every bit of that, too, feels Jimmy’s cock jerk and pulse inside him, feels the slickness of the lube, nearly feels the come spurting into the condom. When Jimmy’s given all he can, he collapses on top of Corey, careful to catch himself on his elbows before settling against him so he doesn’t crush the other tender.

“This is going to be a little uncomfortable,” Jimmy says somewhere near his ear, again stroking a hand on Corey’s thigh. And then he pulls out and falls to lay beside Corey. He stays there a moment before getting up to throw the condom away in the bathroom. Corey shifts, finally bringing his legs down into a more comfortable position. He feels . . . sore and open and empty. He curls up on his side.

Jimmy’s back a second later, sliding onto the bed beside him, on his side to face Corey, small smile already in place. “Hi,” he says, taking Corey’s hands in his own on the mattress between them.

Corey only nods, eyelids feeling suddenly heavy.

“How do you feel?” Jimmy asks him quietly. “Are you okay?”

Corey nods. “I feel good.”

Jimmy grins. “Great.” Then his eyes flicker down Corey’s chest. “Can I . . . ?”

Corey shrugs, and then Jimmy’s scooting forward and down. He pushes gently at Corey’s limbs until he can get to Corey’s belly. He leans in, and . . . 

Corey moans as Jimmy just licks his come off his belly. The teasing little flickers of his tongue interspersed with long, thorough licks have Corey shaking and making little desperate noises in his throat. It feels amazing, still amplified from having just come, and he’s seriously considering if he can get hard again so soon. But then Jimmy’s moving back up to lay across from Corey, and sleepiness overtakes him again, even as Jimmy’s grin makes him feel all warm inside.

“Thank you for letting me in, Crow,” Jimmy says softly. “You were so good.”

And Corey glows with a blush. He turns his head into the sheets to hide it, even as a smile sneaks across his face, but Jimmy gets a hand on his jaw and holds him still. He smiles, small and soft. “We should do this again sometime.”

Corey nods. “I’d like that.”

Jimmy grins. “Great.” His eyes flicker down to Corey’s mouth. “Can I kiss you? Or is that weird for you?”

Corey reaches out, cups the back of Jimmy’s head, and pulls him into a kiss. It’s a little weird to taste himself in Jimmy’s mouth, but Jimmy is probably the best kisser Corey’s ever experienced, so he’s not about to pass that up.

When they break apart, Corey settles into Jimmy’s chest, scooting closer to the other tender’s warmth. Jimmy gets an arm around him, and Corey feels him laugh gently.

“Get some sleep, Crow. I have to leave early in the morning, so if I’m not here when you wake up, I just want you to know that I had a really great time tonight, and,” he hooks a knuckle under Corey’s chin and tilts the other boy’s face up to meet his gaze. He smiles, a little crooked and mischievous. “And you’re a really good goalie.”

Corey smiles and leans up to kiss him. And then they settle in to sleep, Corey safe and warm in Jimmy’s arms.

*********

Over the years, they become the odd couple that they are. They develop as a couple and learn how to be good for each other. They are found out a few times by teammates on either team. Some take it well, some do not, but they persevere together. The years pass, and they have their moments, especially during playoffs, but they manage to stay together through it all. And then in 2014 . . . 

It’s hard playing on rival teams, especially for goalies. It’s almost a blessing when they get moved to separate conferences, but then they never get to see each other.

Jimmy gets knocked out of playoffs first and shows up in Chicago a day later. He stays with Corey, cooks for him, and cleans when he’s out. He takes care of Corey and cheers him on as the Blackhawks make it to the second round. When Corey starts to doubt himself, Jimmy’s there to bring him back up. Jimmy is good to him, good for him.

Then the Blackhawks make it to the Conference Finals, and everything starts to fall apart for Corey. Nothing is going right, and he starts to turn on himself. But Jimmy’s there to bring him back. After their third loss, he has Corey stretch out on the bed and gives him the most thorough massage of Corey’s life, all the while murmuring what a good goalie Corey is.

The Blackhawks win the next three games.

Game seven goes into overtime. The world stops for a little while, and next thing Corey knows, he’s in the lockerroom. Looking around at his dejected teammates, he figures out that they lost. The media puts him under a microscope, and he mumbles the same line everyone else is saying, “It really hasn’t sunk in yet.”

Jimmy’s waiting for him in the hall, looking small under Corey’s sweatshirt and ball cap, his head down to avoid recognition. Corey touches his arm, and in a second, Corey is enveloped in Jimmy’s arms and he’s the one that feels small. He clings to Jimmy, shaking because his season is over. He let --

“Don’t you dare put this on yourself,” Jimmy says near his ear. “This was not your fault.”

When they get back to Corey’s apartment, Jimmy leaves him on the couch watching Wheel of Fortune while he cooks Corey a monstrous cheeseburger that definitely isn’t in Corey’s diet. Like it matters anymore. After Corey finishes, Jimmy snuggles him on the couch, holding him tight and repeating over and over how well Corey did. When it gets late, Jimmy picks him up and carries him to the bedroom like he weighs nothing. He lays Corey back on the bed and blows him how he knows Corey likes. After, they lay facing each other, Corey pressing their hands together between them.

“You should come back to Canada with me.”

He knows he shouldn’t expect it of the other goalie, but Jimmy just smiles softly, nods, and says, “Okay.”

“Really?” Corey asks before he can think better of it.

“Of course,” Jimmy says softly. “I love you.”

Corey blushes and smiles. “I love you, too.”

It definitely sucks that his season is over, but maybe the summer won’t be so bad.


End file.
